


Margo's Letter

by creativityandcoffee



Series: Saying Goodbye (Letters to Q) [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativityandcoffee/pseuds/creativityandcoffee
Summary: How am I supposed to keep going on with my life like nothing has happened? Like my heart didn't get ripped out of my chest? Like I didn't burn a piece of myself when I threw your crown into the fire?





	Margo's Letter

**Author's Note:**

> The second work of my Saying Goodbye (Letters to Q) series. Hope you enjoy!

_Coldwater,_

I'll be honest with you about two things:

  1. I've never written a letter to anyone before, not to mention anyone that was dead.
  2. I have absolutely no idea why I'm doing this.



Eliot came up with this idea. Apparently, when he wrote his letter to you, it helped him deal with everything that's happened. And he does seem... _lighter_ , lately. Like he's gotten rid of a weight he was wearing on his shoulders. I'm glad that writing to you was able to help him so much.

But I don't see how it could even begin to help me.

I'm not good at showing affection, Coldwater. I'm not good at opening up around people—even with Eliot, it's always been a challenge. But I kept promising myself, over and over, that I was going to be kinder to you, once this Monster thing was over. That I was going to allow myself to be closer. Because honestly, you are one of my best friends—

Honestly, you _were_ one of my best friends—

_No._

How the _fuck_ am I supposed to get used to referencing you in the past tense? 

How the _fuck_ am I supposed to keep going on with my life like nothing has happened? Like my heart didn't get ripped out of my chest? Like I didn't burn a piece of myself when I threw your crown into the fire? 

The first time we met—though I'm sure I tried my best not to show it—I felt a connection to you. The way you're so open and honest about things seems to draw people to you like moths to a flame.

For my whole adulthood, I've been wearing this armor, this protection I've built between me and the world. 

You, though... you never had any armor. And that let people see every aspect of you.

You're not perfect, Quentin; I want to make that clear. You're scatter-brained, and emotional, and always ready to jump into things without thinking them through first...

Those aren't bad imperfections to have, though. Sometimes, they're even kind of beautiful to see.

But now, I'll never get to see them again—at least, I won't see them in you.

When we were all sitting around that campfire, singing that song I can't listen to anymore... I felt like you were there. I know that sounds crazy. But I'm writing to a dead person, so how much crazier can I get? I felt like you were _there_ , listening to us sing, watching as we cast your relics to the flames.

But even though that crown is gone, I still feel your absence as much as ever. 

There's still mornings where I'll wake up and forget that you're not here. Sometimes, there's whole _hours_ where I'll wonder when you're coming back, when I'll next be able to talk to you, to tell you some horrible joke Fen made or tease you just to make you laugh.

And then I remember I'll never see you again.

But now, I think I see it all a bit differently... because while writing this, I've made a decision.

I've decided, Coldwater, that you're not gone.

You might be dead, but you're not _gone._ You're as present in my life as you ever were.

You'll always be here, in the back of my mind. You'll always be there, in my memories. And whenever I feel like shying away, feel like hiding my thoughts or what I really feel, I know it's your voice that will speak to me... 

_Cast off your armor. Step into the sun. You deserve to be seen as the person you are._

And I'll listen to you, when I can.

I miss you, Q. I always will. But you'll never be gone from me.

 _— Margo Hanson_  


End file.
